Page 41 of Rockstar Gods


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“Whoa there, honey,” Tank grabbed me as I tipped over backwards, right into his chest. But he was smiling down at me fondly.

“Don’t piss on her high,” Bishop said, taking my hand and spinning me into him. He controlled me so effortlessly, I turned on my toes and landed firmly against his chest. My heartbeat started to pound harder.

And all the excitement from the club—oh yeah—now that his body was there hard against mine, I realized it had never gone away. It had just gotten lost for a moment amid all the other sensations assaulting me.

“Come, Pet,” Bishop said. “Wanna go ride on that elevator?” He pointed to the two glass boxes sliding smoothly up and down the atrium floors.

I bounced up and down on my toes. “Yes. Yes!”

I hurried across the elegantly tiled floor, my boots squeaking as I went. It felt like I was flying now. The classic art on the wall seemed alive and yet also cartoonish at the same time. I didn’t stop to dwell on it. I went to the elevator and jammed the up button.

The guys were right on my heels.

As soon as the elevator came, Bishop hustled me inside and pressed me so my face was against the glass and he was at my back.

Again, his hand slid down the back of my jeans. I hissed out and put a palm to the glass. As the elevator lifted, creating that swooping feeling in my belly, Bishop’s finger teased my folds apart.

He just teased it back and forth, back and forth. Playing with my folds. Teasing me and torturing me as the lobby grew further and further away while the elevator rose.

I gasped when the elevator pinged and his finger disappeared from my pussy. Immediately I felt the emptiness, the coolness of my panties where his hot finger had just been.

I whimpered and followed when he crooked his finger at me as he exited the elevator. He had a smirk on his face because he’d made me a quivering mass. I wouldn’t even deny it. He could master me tonight. I would worship at his feet if only he’d do something with this craving inside me. If only he’d finally show me where this all could lead. I was so desperate for him. For them. For where this all could go.

I was starved to feel their bodies against mine.

So as soon as the hotel door shut behind us, I was tugging my tank top off over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Fuck, her tits are perfect,” Mason breathed out.

I spun around to face them all and stated what I wanted boldly. “Fuck me.”

Bishop stepped forward. “You want us to fuck you?”

It felt like a challenge.

“Yes.” I lifted my chin, ready to face anything he had to dish out tonight. And feeling more like my badass self than I had in a long time. All these emotions they’d been stirring up lately had thrown me off my game. Where was the street-hard bitch who didn’t take shit from anybody?

Here. That’s where she was.

I went up on tiptoes so Bishop and I were eye to eye.

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it. You haven’t been able to make me come yet.” I arched an eyebrow and put a hand on my waist. “I’m starting to think you just don’t have it in you.”

“Oh, Pet,” he said with a low chuckle. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

I kept it honest. Brutally so. “Fuck no,” I laughed. “But I still want it.”

I reached for his belt buckle but he snatched my wrist mid-air.

“Oh no, Pet. We do this my way or I send you to bed without that orgasm you’ve been waiting so long for.”

A whine escaped my throat. This was what he brought out in me. Animal noises.

Which was why I bowed my head, then flicked my eyes up with a flutter of my lashes. “Yes, Master.”

His eyes flared dark at that and he bent his legs slightly, grasped me around the waist, then lifted me up and flung me over his shoulder.

“Hey!” I shrieked as the world went topsy-turvy and then I suddenly had a very good up-close and personal look at Bishop’s tight ass. He’d lifted me like I weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. I should eat more desserts and make it more difficult next time he tried to pull this shit.

He carried me into the bathroom, using his foot to nudge the glass shower door open.

“Bishop— What are you—”

But he’d deposited me in the shower before I could finish asking why we weren’t heading straight to the bed.

“I haven’t even taken off my jeans,” I started to object as he reached for the controls. I was standing in the center of the shower when he punched several buttons, and spigots from all different spots started spraying water at us.

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